


Welcome Back to Peter Screaming

by EndGameisGoingtoKillMe



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, I really love peter sorry, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark is also trying, also Flash will not be dick in this, and Tony - Freeform, and every character in the mcu, and harley, harley keener is trying, i have no clue what im doing, this story is all over the place lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndGameisGoingtoKillMe/pseuds/EndGameisGoingtoKillMe
Summary: Peter Parker was happy! He had friends, his suit, and an actual internship with Mr. Stark. That all changed when a kid named Harley Keener shows up.





	1. Wowie?

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't even know where this is going, but so far it's like this. Also, all of these character will show up at some point! Enjoy!
> 
> p.s. this is my first fanfiction I've ever written

It all started when Peter was at the tower for his "internship." No, his actual internship, so he didn't need to put the quotes around it everytime he said it. It was just so unreal, that billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, Tony Stark picked him. He chose Spider-Man technically, but those are just details. Peter was glad to be around, honestly. That was until Harley Keener showed up. 

It was just a typical day at the internship. He was improving his web formula, when in strolled this kid, maybe a year older than him. To say the least, he was surprised. He was about to say something, but then Mr. Stark strutted in. If Mr. Stark didn't have a problem with this kid, then neither did Peter. He decided to just keep his mouth shut. He tried to pretend he was working, but he was never an outstanding actor. Which is weird because he lies to everyone, and lying is acting. Then again Ned found him crawling on his ceiling and May just walked in on him in the suit. So maybe he wasn't the best actor, but he was okay!  
He just kept his head down and totally focused on his web shooters. "Peter, I have someone I want you to meet." Mr. Stark sounded so happy, and he rarely was ever outwardly happy; unless he wasn't happy at all. Peter deleted that thought right from his head, Mr. Stark deserved to be happy. Anyways, any person that made Mr. Stark happy was a friend of his.

"Hi, I'm Peter!" he put his hand out, the kid just looked at his hand with disdain. Peter slowly put his hand down. Mr. Stark chuckled nervously, sensing the awkward atmosphere.

"Well, Peter, this is Harley," Mr. Stark gestured to the kid. Harley hadn't even smiled at him yet. Peter's guts twisted anxiously; he didn't like it when people didn't like him. Harley didn't even know him, and he had already decided he didn't like him, well we'll see about that. Peter wrang his hands together and shifted from side to side. All he wanted to do, was make Harley like him. He smiled at Harley, but Harley ignored him and turned to Mr. Stark. Peter frowned, this was so unfair. Harley didn't even know him, and he was already passing judgment on him. He turned back towards his workspace, that one social interaction had left him drained.

"Where will I be working, Old Man?" Mr. Stark faux gasped, and even though Peter couldn't see him, he knew Mr. Stark had his hand over his chest. If he was feeling extra dramatic maybe even whipping a tear away. 

"You've been here one day, and you're already insulting me! Who raised you?!" There was no answer, but Peter guessed Harley rolled his eyes. After a significant pause, Mr. Stark sighed. "You're no fun." Pause. "You work over here." 

There were footsteps moving away from him; Peter let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He looked back down at his hands, to see his one of his web shooters crushed in his hand. Peter sighed, and mumbled "Parker Luck," to himself. He dropped the broken web shooter on the table; it's a good thing he wasn't planning on patrolling tonight. Peter looked down at his watch; Peter had to be home in about an hour. "I can fix this at home," he grabbed his book bag and just shoveled his stuff into it. Who has time to organize anyway, Peter was a superhero for Christ's sake. 

Throwing the book bag over his shoulder, he turned around only to be met with no one. They must have been so caught up in one another that they forgot about him. Peter kicked the floor with his shoe, and it made an awful sqeuling noise. He didn't mean to act so bratty, but Mr. Stark was his mentor, and he just forgot about him in his lab. He didn't even ask how his day was or anything. There wasn't a single ruffling of his hair. There was just a "Peter, blah blah blah." Then, he left with the grouchy teen. 

Today was supposed to be a good day. Peter threw his head back and groaned into the empty room, at least he wasn't getting attached to Mr. Stark. That was a lie, but no one else had to know that. He hoped next time he could bond with Harley or something. Even though Harley was grouchy, he still wanted to befriend him. If Harley was going to work in the lab, then he was going to try and make it as excellent as possible. 

Peter cleared his head; he was overthinking it. Simple as that, Occam's razor. Harley was a teen just like him; hopefully, he had the same sense of humor as him. He shoved his earbuds in and turned on some music. Peter walked out of the lab all alone; it was different. He was so used to Mr. Stark walking him to Happy's car. He did tell Mr. Stark he wasn't five, and he didn't need a chaperone to the car, but he appreciated it. He appreciated the attention. Now that he wasn't getting any, he felt ungrateful for all the time Mr. Stark did something out of the way for him. 

It was only one day he reminded himself. Harley just got here, Mr. Stark is trying to make him feel comfortable. He could put his feelings on hold for one day. But, even then Peter knew; Mr. Stark had been drifting from him for about a month. He was just too scared to say anything. He didn't want to act like a kid, but he was a kid. Mr. Stark made him feel young; he felt exactly like this with Uncle Ben. He swallowed, his mouth was suddenly dry. He hated thinking about Uncle Ben, but sometimes it just happened. 

"I just wish he would have talked to me," he told no one. The only person he was trying to make feel better was himself. He couldn't expect Mr. Stark's attention. I mean he's Tony Stark! Of course, he's busy! It was silly even to think he had time for him. He was just some kid from Queens, that by chance, got bite by a radioactive spider. 

"Whatever," Peter mumbled; he just wanted to take a nap. The faster he got home- HAPPY! Mr. Stark always calls Happy to tell him Peter's coming. Every single time and Happy hasn't been ready once. Mr. Stark definitely didn't call, so what were the chances that Happy was here and ready to take him home; Slim to none; might as well try though.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y. is Happy here?" "I'm sorry to say, but Mr. Stark sent him out to pick up some of Mr. Keener's items. Would you like me to get Mr. Stark?" He jumped, that was a big no-no. He did not want to bother Mr. Stark; he could walk anyways. "No thanks, Fri. Thank you for helping me." 

"Certainly, Peter." With that, she was gone, and he was alone. She wasn't gone, but she wasn't talking, it was the same difference. It had taken weeks to get Friday to call him Peter, he didn't see why he deserved a Mr., and she didn't deserve a Miss. She was far superior to him. Finally, Fri agreed. It felt a lot more natural to talk to her after that. 

He got on the elevator and Friday took him down to the lobby. He trudged his book bag up and started walking. The frigid wind smacked him right in the face absorbing all his body heat and leaving him with nothing but a chill. If he was out here for too long, the cold would settle in his bones. He didn't want to shiver today. Walking in this weather was unrealistic and walking to Queens was even more unrealistic. "I'll just take the subway," he said bitterly.


	2. The 2nd One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's walk to the subway has a surprise :O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The grammar might not all be correct, sorry I barely checked. Also I have no clue how a subway works or if you can even call it a train, but I did.

The walk to the subway in Peter’s opinion was dreary and cold. He had to concentrate on directions, and stress about not accidentally getting run over. On top of that, it felt like it dropped ten degrees since he left the tower. The cars worried him the most, even if he was in Manhattan, the taxi drivers were still insane. If you got in their way, there’s a chance they might run you over. Getting run over was not on Peter’s list of things to do. 

He focused on the music blasting into his ears. Peter had just been tuning out the songs, they all sounded like gibberish to him today. It was just background noise. His focus was all over the place; while his attention span isn't great on an average day, it’s not bad. He can focus, he just really has to try hard. One minute he’s listening to what the teachers were thinking, the next he’s thinking about what May was “cooking” for dinner. When he finally realizes he wasn't listening to the teacher, the bell rings, and he’s off to his next class. For the most part, Peter's okay. He knows what they’re teaching, and he suspects that's why he can be so relaxed in class. Most importantly his grades never suffer because of his air-headedness.

True to his word, Peter had been walking around blindly not fully aware of his surroundings while he was thinking and didn't even notice the man in front of him until he was tripping over him. Luckily, Peter thought it was funny he was still saying "luckily" in a sentence pertaining to him, he did have Parker luck, his spidey senses saved him. He somehow kept himself from falling completely and caught the guy he nearly ran over. Sometimes, his powers surprised him. 

He pulled out an earbud and looked at the guy he had almost tripped over and, simultaneously, saved. The guy appeared to be in his early twenties; he could have been younger though. He had a baby face, that de-aged him at least five years, probably more. He had shaggy blonde hair and a crooked smile. Peter recognized him, but for the life of him, he couldn't place where. There was this look in the man’s eyes, that was unsettling. It wasn't necessarily a hostile look, but it wasn't a look that read, “I donate to charity and do community service in my free time.” If Peter used one word to describe this creeper, it would be “off.” Something just wasn't right about this guy. Sucking up his anxiety, Peter apologized. 

“Oh, hey! I’m sorry for bumping into you.” His voice was cracking; he hated how young it made him sound. Spider-Man shouldn't be going through puberty, and he should have a deep, manly voice. Like Thors or Captain Americas, they had deep voices, and they were kickass superheroes. Peter couldn't wait until he was 18, he would finally be an adult. Which means he would be a full-time superhero, and he wouldn't have a curfew or anything. Peter wouldn't have to worry about school anymore; it was going to be awesome. 

“It’s okay, be more careful. Next time you might not be so lucky.” Peter bristled back; it sounded like this man just threatened him. What he said wasn't a threat, but the tone of his voice told a different story. It seemed dangerous. He let go of the man’s arm and took a step back. The man just merely stared at him, as if the man was expecting Peter to run. Which is what he wanted to do right now, this man scared him. It was weird for Peter to be scared, you know because he was basically an Avenger, but this man. He was incredibly intimidating to Peter. 

The man turned and started to walk away, but before Peter could get away from him. He crooked his fat head around and looked right at Peter. “See you around, Parker.” Then with a twitch of his head, he walked. Further and further away from Peter. Peter could barely contain his gasp, he took a step back then another, until he was running to get away from this man. This man who scared the shit out of him. This man that knew his last name, even though Peter didn't know him.

He was panicking, he knew it, but it was just so hard to stop. How could he? A stranger knew his name! His name! If he knew his name, then what were the chances that he knew that he was Spider-Man too. He tried to do the math in his head, but at the moment his brain was fried. If he knows about Peter, then he knows about Aunt May too! His breath picked up; nothing was going to harm her, not if he could do anything about it. He was running on adrenaline and a high dose of fear. He was right about the man being bad. Peter had no clue what this man wanted with him. For all Peter knows, he might have been keeping tabs on him for a while. Heaven knows, what that man has in store for Peter. 

God, Peter was Spider-Man! He was a hero! He took down creeps like the man every day! Why was he running? He fought the Vulture and the Rogue Avengers without a second thought. Why was this man different? He hated himself for running, but all he could think about was being safe; being near that man was not safe. 

He had it half in mind to run back to Mr. Stark. Maybe he when he got to the tower, Harley would be gone. Mr. Stark might let him stay the night and perhaps even hug him, but Peter didn't know if they were there yet. Even if they had been getting closer for a couple of months, since he took Peter under his wing, Mr. Stark was still closed off to him. Peter was trying really hard to get Mr. Stark to open up to him, but there was always this invisible wall he could never seem to get through. He couldn't see it, but they both knew it was there. Whenever he realized it, Mr. Stark realized it too; then in the blink of an eye, they went back to their mentor/protegee relationship. Nothing more, nothing less. Peter told himself it worked better that way. Even if Peter saw Mr. Stark as a father figure, Mr. Stark would never see him as his son. Peter was just trying to mend himself back together; once Uncle Ben died a wide, gaping hole replaced Peter’s heart. He was trying to fill the void. Mr. Stark was his only male role model in his life at the moment, so it was only natural Peter relied on him. 

Aunt May was helping him deal with life, but he felt so guilty asking her anything. She should be living her life with Ben! Now she's stressed every day; instead of two incomes, they're living off of one. If you call buying the bare minimum of food, turning the heat on only when it's necessary, and no hot showers "living"; then yeah they were living. He felt guilty for saying that, but the lack of food had been taking a toll on him. He promised Aunt May that he didn't have an enhanced metabolism, so she could continue to buy the same amount of food as they always have. Peter didn't want her to buy more food for him; she should be able to get something for her. So, he kept his mouth shut; as he said before, he was good at it. So what if his stomach hurt constantly, one look at May's face when they had extra money made him feel so much better. 

May and Ben never wanted kids; they just had him dumped on them after his parents died. They loved him as their own, but it wasn't his place to impose on. He should have been dropped off at an orphanage or placed into foster care, not into their warm household full of love and a nurturing atmosphere. Peter appreciated all the sacrifices they made for him, but it didn't help lessen the guilt. Everything got so much unbearable when Uncle Ben was murdered. It was an unspoken truth it was Peter’s fault. He was the reason Uncle Ben was out that night. He was the reason the mugger was never caught. He was the reason Uncle Ben was shot. Right in front of his eyes. Peter will always remember it; it haunts him in his nightmares; there was no escaping it. 

Peter stopped, he stopped thinking, stopped running; he focused on breathing. He greedily sucked in the frigid air. It filled his lungs with a sharp pang with each breath. The cold was making everything worse. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and looked at his directions. He leaned against the wall; his legs had gone numb. The subway was only around the corner. Peter rested his hands on the freezing wall and sighed. All he needed to do was get into somewhere warm. With as much determination as he could muster, he pushed himself off the side of the building and hiked towards the subway. 

The subway was jam-packed with people. He crept around everyone, avoiding touching anyone. Inside it was a little warmer than the streets of New York. He swiped his card and waited for the subway. He tapped his foot and rubbed his hands frantically together; his hands were ice-cold. He blew on them, but everything was consistently cold. He closed his eyes and relaxed. His nerves were shot; between the creeper, Harley, and the cold, he deserved a nap and a warm blanket. 

Peter heard the echo of the train in the distance. It screeched as it neared him. The ground shook, and the train bounded in. Peter's enhanced senses made riding the subway hell. Not only was the train terrible with it's shrieking while it traveled the rails, but the people also made it worse. They were all so loud, in a crowd, and in close proximity, it pounded on his eardrums. He hated riding the subway for this reason. The passengers got off, and Peter waited patiently for his turn to enter. It wasn't that packed on the inside; he managed to grab a seat immediately.

He hunched over himself and ran his fingers through his hair. His hands were slowly warming up, as was his whole body. His chest didn't have any sharp pains anymore, with that in mind, he slumped into his seat. He shut his eyes; his stop was at the end of the line, he had time to take a nap.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Aunt May! (that's it, that's the summary)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for about nothing happening it'll pick up in the next chapter. And we'll get some Spidey action! Enjoy

Peter woke up about an hour later with a crick in his neck. He tried to rub his sore muscles, but it did nothing to help the ache. Miraculously, Peter still had his book bag. In the back of his mind, he told himself falling asleep on the subway was a bad idea. You never know what might happen and while Peter believed everyone had good in them, Aunt May had been drilling the dangers of Queens since he could remember. 

Aunt May would have lectured him to no end after she freaked out of course. Everyone knows that when May freaks out, Peter's not far behind her. His Spider-Man suit was also in his bag, the criminal that stole his bag would either think he was a super freak about Spider-Man or that he was Spider-Man. Thankfully, that didn't happen. It could have though; Peter needed to stay alert especially when something so serious is on the line. 

He checked on what stop the subway was arriving at, it was Wood Haven Boulevard. That means he had two stops left. Peter looked at his watch, and it read 7:57; he left the tower at 6:30. It had been more than an hour, and May was probably blowing up his phone worrying herself sick about him. He quickly got his phone out, and it was dead. Peter had to resist the urge to throw his phone. Small things were piling up and up; soon he was going to get crushed by all the minor inconveniences. Until Peter eventually exploded; that would not be today. He tucked his phone back into his pocket. Peter doesn't have the money to get a new phone, and he wasn't a toddler. There was no use to break his phone. Peter needed to learn how to get his temper in check before was accidentally sent over the edge. 

Don't get him wrong; he was a happy person. It's just how life had been going lately. It seemed like the entire universe was out to get him. If it weren't for his spidey sense and lightning-quick reflexives, he would be dead right now. Peter just needed to learn to cope healthily, without drawing attention to himself that he needed help. His family and friends, wouldn't take this anger he had inside of him too well. Mr. Stark would probably take his suit back since you can't have an irresponsible superhero with the temper of a 7 year old running around. May would never let him out of her sight. Ned would build legos with him every minute of free time to make him feel better. MJ, she wouldn't give a shit. 

It was weird things that set him off. The exchange with Harley and Mr. Stark didn't make him angry; it just tugged on his heartstrings. When Flash called him, "Penis Parker," it didn't even phase him, then Flash called Ned "fat." That's all Peter needed to go off. He got in Flash's face and told him to "watch his mouth," then he grabbed Ned and stalked off. Flash had no right to talk to Ned that way. Ned was the sweetest person in the entire world and didn't deserve Flash's prickness. Even if Ned texted him later and said, Flash apologized, he didn't care. Wronging his friends or family was a great way to get Peter angry, you could do whatever you wanted to him, but you involve them, and then you're going to get a piece of Spider-Man. 

"Last stop, Forest Hills." Peter hopped up; he was almost home. Then, he could watch a movie with May and go to sleep. He exited the subway; it was virtually empty in the station. There were a couple of homeless people, Peter felt like a scumbag walking around them, but that was it. Peter wished he had something to give them, but he doubted they wanted any textbooks. The look on their faces as Peter passed was heartbreaking; He just kept his eyes down and kept moving. 

As he ascended from the subway, he was slowly feeling the world turn colder and colder. He crossed his arms and refused to shiver. In Peter's head, if you shivered, you were giving into the cold. It also didn't make you feel as cold, that was his trick. It obviously didn't work, but in his head it did. He walked through the streets of Queens to his apartment. 

His apartment was only a fifteen minute for a normal human, but Peter could run it in seven minutes. He picked up his pace to a light jog. From here Peter didn't need directions, he had done this millions of times. He knew his home borough like the back of his hand. 

Finally, his apartment building was right in front of him. It had to be the most beautiful sight Peter had seen all day. He raced through the door and into the elevator. Peter hit his floor number and waited. He ran to down the hallway and got his keys out and voila! He was home. Peter had to resist jumping up and down. Without a second thought, Peter threw his bookbag down, kicked off his shoes, and dove for the couch. He burrowed himself in the blankets and pillows. Peter stretched out his stiff muscles and heard several pops. He sighed in relief. The warm environment was making it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. 

Peter wanted to sleep, and he couldn't even remember why he had to stay up. There was something in the back of his mind that he needed to do. But on the couch, it was so hard to think. All he wanted to do was snuggle into the blankets and sleep off his lousy day. That's what he planned on doing. He rolled around trying to get comfortable, nothing seemed to be working. Peter grabbed the remote to the TV and put on re-runs of "Friends." It did the trick and he dozed off almost automatically.

"Peter?" Peter shuddered and pushed his head further into the corner of the couch. "Peter?" Peter groaned it was too early to get up. A hand gently shook Peter, until his eyes cracked open. He squinted at the living room light. The figure in front of him was too blurry identify who it was. Peter sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He blinked a couple of times and stopped when he could clearly see. 

Aunt May was crouched beside him, with a little smile on her face. Peter smiled too; it was a relief to see May unharmed, especially after his crazy night. He resisted the urge to cry and beg her to make everything go away like a baby. Instead, he just sat there on the couch. He looked over at the TV and noticed it was off. May must have turned it off when she got home from work.

"You scared me half to death when you didn't answer your phone," Oh! That's what Peter forget before he crashed on the couch. He forgot to charge his phone. 

"Shot, I'm sorry, May! My phone died, and I forgot to charge it." Peter felt terrible, he had tried not to worry her, and somehow he did it unintentionally. She still just smiled her smile and ruffled his hair. Peter squeaked and moved away from her hand. May laughed, Peter shot her a weak glare, May laughed even harder. His lips started curving up, and he attempted not to smile, but it was so hard with May's happy face. It didn't take long for them to both start laughing. The situation wasn't even funny; it was May who made it so enjoyable. 

Once their laughter died down, May sat down on the couch beside him. "Why did you sleep on the couch?" It was a good question, any sensible guardian would ask it. 

"I was exhausted when I got home. My room looked so far away, and the couch was right there." May frowned. 

"Were you out patrolling? Mondays are supposed to be for your internship." Peter opened his mouth, but May continued ranting. "I knew that Tony Stark was a bad influence, but I didn't think he would lie to me about your wellbeing." Peter cut her off before she could continue insinuating that Mr. Stark was at fault. 

"No, I wasn't out patrolling. I was at Mr. Stark's; I was just tired after taking the subway." That didn't seem to help Aunt May either she looked like she was one word away from calling Mr. Stark and giving him a piece of her mind. 

"You took the subway! All by yourself!" May jumped up and stormed to the kitchen. Peter trailed behind her; it had been a while since he had seen May so angry. He didn't even know why she was angry; it wasn't that big of a deal.

"May, I'm not five, I'm old enough to take the subway alone." Peter was keeping his anger under wraps. All he wanted was for someone to treat him like an adult. 

"Like hell you are." May grabbed her phone; Peter jumped over in surprise. May was actually going to call Mr. Stark and yell at him. His heart sped up, and he was close to panic. The anger left his body as fast as it came. Peter couldn't let May call Mr. Stark; she would embarrass him and make him sound like he was throwing a massive tantrum because Mr. Stark didn't pay attention to him. He didn't want Mr. Stark to think it was a big deal. If Mr. Stark thought he was too scared to take the subway by himself, then he wouldn't let him superhero anymore.

"May, please!" Peter was begging by now. He was scared Mr. Stark would hate him. It was silly to think he would over a stupid phone call. But, it wasn't Mr. Stark's fault, and Mr. Stark wouldn't take kindly to being blamed for something he had no control over. May looked over at Peter. 

Peter looked like a mess: his face was bright red, his eyes were glassy, and he was sniffling. Anyone with eyes could tell that he was close to breaking down. Peter's appearance seemed to do the trick; May dropped the phone automatically. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I want to protect you. You know that. You all alone on a subway worries me to death." Peter nodded his head and whimpered. He was trying not to cry, but it was so hard not to with May gazing at him with so much care. May enveloped him in her arms. He wrapped his arms around her and hid his face in the crick of her neck. Peter started heaving, and a build-up of sobs escaped. May shushed him and rocked back and forth. Just like that the dam broke. 

Sobs racked his body. He cried about Mr. Stark and Harley, the man from the street, Uncle Ben, Liz, and even the homeless people he couldn't help. Everything was just too much; he just needed to get it all out. Peter didn't know how long he stood there in May's arm, it felt like hours. May continued to hold him together and comfort him. Once he calmed down, Peter was exhausted. 

May guided him towards his bedroom and laid him down. Peter didn't have the energy to push her off. She tucked him in, just like she had when he first arrived on her doorstep as a kid. It was comforting. She leaned down and gave him a kiss on his forehead. 

"We'll talk in the morning; you have school in 4 hours." She turned off his light. 

"May?" Peter asked from his huddle of blankets.

"Yes, Pete?" 

"Please don't call, Mr. Stark." May stifled a giggle. 

"I won't; get some sleep. I love you." May left. Peter rolled over in bed and mumbled out an inaudible "I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to start regularly posting on Mondays and Fridays. If I have time there might be a chapter out another day too. I've been staying up typing and editing; it makes me exhausted in school. I'm not to stress myself out too much, I hope you understand!
> 
> The man will come back in later chapters; I have a couple people in mind for him, but I haven't decided yet. I might ask who you guys would rather have. On a high note, I think I actually know where this story is going now! 
> 
> P.S. sorry for all the sleeping in this chapter, I just don't know how to pass time normally. If guys have any pointers, it would be amazing if you commented them


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider-Man, Spider-Man, Does whatever a spider can

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Peter shot up in bed, his hand whacked his alarm clock. He hid his face in the crook of his elbow and groaned. He got absolutely no sleep. Peter threw his feet over the side of his bed. He almost hissed when his bare feet touched the cold ground. 

"I wish we could leave the heat on," he said entirely knowing he was only talking to himself. He unwilling placed his feet back on the floor. It was a cold shock; he really hated the cold. This was his life though, waking up to a cold floor. He laughed to himself. There are definitely worse things. 

He walked over to his dresser and did his thing. Threw on some geeky science pun shirt that said, "A neutron walks into a bar, and asks the bartender how much a drink is. The bartender says 'For you no charge.'" Even though he wore this shirt often, it still made him laugh. Peter was lame like that. He jumped into a pair of jeans and slid on some socks. Now for his shoes.

"Peter? Are you up?" He heard May yell from the kitchen. Where were his shoes? 

"Yeah, I'll be out in a second." Peter looked under his bed, in his closet, under his pile of dirty clothes. They were nowhere to be found. 

"If you're looking for your shoes, they're out here." Aunt May always knew how his mind was working. It was insane sometimes. Peter walked out to the kitchen. May was sitting at the table eating some cereal; she looked up when Peter entered. She gestured towards the seat at the other end of the table.

"So do you want to talk about last night? I didn't call Tony like you asked. What happened?" The concern was evident in May's eyes, but Peter could not have this conversation right now. He was going to be late for school, again. If Peter missed the subway, he would be 30 minutes late, and he was trying to be a better student. He smiled apologetically at May and stood. 

"If I don't leave now, I'll be late. Can we talk tonight?" May nodded her head. 

"We can, but don't think I've forgotten about this." Peter ran to the door, slipped his shoes on, and scooped his book bag up. All of his stuff was conveniently in one area. He reached in his back pocket for his phone, but it was missing. "It's dead remember?" Nope, he totally forgot. No music today then, he grabbed his keys and opened the door. "Love you, May! See you tonight." Without waiting for her reply, he shut the door and ran down the hall. 

The elevator was already on his floor. Today is going to be a good day! He entered the elevator and waited. The elevator dinged, and he was off. He sprinted the route he traveled last night except for this time he was going to the station. Peter arrived at the station in five minutes, he quickly swiped his card and got there just as the train was boarding. It really was his lucky day. Peter got on, took an empty seat and waited. 

The subway ride to school was boring. Peter's phone was still dead since he had forgotten to charge it, so he was forced to listen to the morning commute of the train. It was crowded this morning, so he was holding onto a pole. He gave his seat up when an older woman would have been forced to stand. He didn't bat an eye, he caught her eyes and offered her his seat. She smiled at him and accepted it. She even pinched his cheeks and called him a dear. Peter blushed and told her it was no big deal. He walked over to an empty pole and waited. It was a long ride especially to stand, but he could do it. 

Peter watched people enter and exit. It was kind of cathartic. There were mothers and fathers with their little kids sitting in their laps, probably taking them to school. Elderly people were sitting on the train, most were just watching other people like him. Middle-aged people with a grumpy look on their face had a coffee in their hand. The train was filled with the scent of coffee; Peter gagged. Coffee had one of the most potent smells, especially in larges doses. 

His favorite type of people were newly adults — the just out of high schoolers. Most had this look on their face, a look that meant they could take on anything they wanted. They had a quiet confidence; Peter couldn't wait to be like them. These people had their whole lives ahead of them, and they were making the most of it. However, it was a double-sided coin. There were the other just out of high schoolers that had the exact opposite look on their face. They had a look that said, "Please put me out of my misery, I've been here long enough." Peter loved watching them just as much. They were worn down and were done adulting. One woman was wearing sweatpants, but they were on inside-out. Peter stifled his giggle and told her about her sweatpants. The woman looked up at him and said in a monotone voice, "I know." He really had to stop himself from bursting out in laughter with her in hearing distance. As soon as she exited the train, he doubled over laughing. 

Peter hoped he would become the prior one. He wanted to stay positive and have a confident attitude. Peter barely had any confidence now; his self-esteem was just above rock bottom. He could only go up. Peter just had to accept and become comfortable in his own skin, and it was just so hard to do when Peter thought he did everything wrong. One day, though, he would be self-possessed and a force to reckon with as Peter Parker and not just as Spider-Man. 

The ride to school was over just like that. If Peter made good time, he would be in school ten minutes before it started. Ten minutes would now be his new personal record if he made it. Peter raced to his school, he only narrowly avoided bumping into people. He ran across the field and crossed the road, not looking both ways. Peter relied too much on his Spidey senses. 

A car's tires screeched to a stop only inches away from Peter. "Parker! Watch out, dude!" Flash was in his new car all by himself. After Spider-Man stole his dad's car, Flash was the talk at school for a while. His dad got him a new car, and there were no hard feelings against PSider-Man. Peter guessed Flash liked all the attention about coming in close contact with Spider-Man. Peter put his hands up; he needed to pay attention to his surroundings before he got killed, or worse expelled. Surprisingly, Flash had been rather nice to Peter. Usually, he screamed for, "Penis Parker, to watch his white ass or he might run over him next time." This was certainly an upgrade. 

"I'm so sorry, Flash!" He got out of Flash's way and continued into the school. Hopefully, Flash would be less of a dick today. He walked over to his locker; Ned was nowhere in sight. Peter greeted his locker neighbor and got to work. He emptied his bookbag, stuffed his Spider-man suit further into the bookbag, and hung his bookbag up. Peter grabbed his books for his first-period class and almost head-butted Ned was standing directly behind him.

"Dude!" His voice cracked just like it usually did; he could count on his voice to crack whenever he got overly-excited or scared. Ned just laughed it off. Peter was the one with the superpowers, but he's still the jumpiest one out of the two of them.

"Are you free tonight or are you doing the 'internship?'" Ned bumped him with his elbow and did air quotes around "internship," just like Peter does. If this wasn't proof that they deserved each other, then Peter didn't know what to tell you. They were perfect best friends. They had the same sense of humor, interests, and tastes. Best of all, they both liked dorky handshakes, so they made one just for them. It was pretty cool in their opinion.

"I can't do hang out tonight, I have to fix my web-shooter, and I'm going to get in some patrolling." Ned just sadly nodded his head. It was tough to just have a day for them now. Mondays were for his internship with Mr. Stark. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday were for patrolling. Friday Ned had mandatory family dinners. Weekends were for spending time with May and sometimes Ned. There was also decathlon practice every night from 3-4:30. So both of their schedules were jammed full. 

"It's okay; we can do something next week. Maybe even invite MJ." Ned waggled his eyebrows at Peter and winked. Peter just rolled his eyes. Ned had this weird fantasy that Peter liked MJ; he didn't! MJ didn't like him either! He didn't know why Ned was so fixated on getting them together. Everyone had to have their hobbies Peter guessed.

"You know I don't like MJ..."

"You losers talking about me." MJ's voice came out of nowhere and everywhere at the same time. It was super weird how she could just appear without him noticing. Ned even jumped this time. She definitely had some kind of secret talent. 

"You wish, MJ," Peter responded; MJ just rolled her eyes. 

"Hey, MJ, are you free tonight? I asked Peter over here, but he's too busy for little old me. So what do you say?" Ned crossed his fingers and shut his eyes. He could be so dramatic sometimes.

"Sure, what time do you want to meet?" Peter looked around and made eye contact with Flash. Flash smiled back. Peter narrowed his eyes in confusion, he had to be in some kind of alternate dimension. One where Flash liked him and didn't bully him. Peter looked back at Ned and MJ who were deep in conversation. 

"I hope decathlon practice isn't too long tonight," Ned was complaining about it even though, Peter knew he had nothing better to do. MJ was also the captain of the decathlon team, she wasn't the best person to be complaining too. In his defense, decathlon could be boring and mentally-draining. "See you in fourth period, Peter!" Ned walked into his classroom, and MJ followed throwing a "Don't fall asleep in class," over her shoulder. Peter couldn't make any promises, a nap sounded terrific right now.

His classroom was practically empty. He was one of the first ones in the room, Peter must have been early today. He sat down and got all his stuff out; he'll at least look like he's prepared. Peter is trying to be a good student after all. 'I can close my eyes for just a little while,' Peter thought, Mrs. Warren wasn't even in the room. A little while turned into the entire physics period; Mrs. Warren didn't even yell at him for sleeping. While he was leaving the room, she did give him a very pointed look. Peter brushed it off. 

The rest of his day was pretty bland, he hadn't done any of his homework the night before, so that wasn't fun. There was more homework assigned in about every class. Peter forgot his lunch money, so he wasn't able to get food. Ned being a fantastic soul gave him some of his; a bonus when your best friend knows of your metabolism. They spent the rest of lunch talking about decathlon practice and other random things. 

By the end of the day, Peter had successfully slept through three of his eight classes. He was weirdly proud of himself; May would have killed him if she found out. 

Tonight was one of his patrolling nights. He was pumped! Peter got stir crazy if he didn't go out as Spider-Man in a couple days. It must be a side effect of his spider bite. 

Aunt May wasn't in the apartment when he got home. There was a little note that said, "Leftovers are in the fridge, working late tonight, love you!" His stomach could not handle May's leftovers. He loved her dearly, but her food was atrocious. Everything was a mix of burned or under-cooked. She accidentally used salt instead of sugar at least once a week. None of her combinations of food didn't sound appetizing. Her cooking reminded him of Rachel's thanksgiving truffle, he just couldn't stomach it like Joey did. 

HIs next order of business was fixing his web shooter, it would take him less than an hour. That would mean he could go Spider-Manning for four hours. He dumped out his bookbag and grabbed his crushed web shooter. Peter needed to improve it, he would work on that at his internship next Monday. He grabbed his screwdriver and got to work. Just as he expected, Peter was done with loads of time to spare. 

He debated if he should exit his apartment and suit up in an alley somewhere, but he really just wanted to go. It was risky, but no one would see him. Peter quickly took off his clothes and slid on the Spider-Man suit. He tapped his spider emblem on his chest, and it tightened around him. Peter peeking out the window and once the coast was clear, quickly crawled out. He put on his mask and jumped down into the alley below. 

"Hello, Peter, how was your day?" Karen was designed to act almost like a person, it was unbelievable. He had adjusted to the AI a while back, it was natural for him now to talk to her. To any onlooker, it would make him look crazy. It seemed like he was talking to himself. No one would want a superhero that talks to himself to help them. Somehow everyone just assumed it as normal, he was wearing a very high-tech suit. It wasn't impossible to guess he had an AI. 

"It was okay. Are there any bad guys out ?" Peter loved talking to Karen, but all he wanted to do tonight, was stop some criminals. 

"Not at the moment." Oof, it sounded like it was going to be a boring patrol tonight. 

"Tell when you find anything!" Peter crawled to the top of a building. Queens sitting out in front of him. It was a beautiful sight, to be so high up and to see every little detail. Ever since he defeated Toomes Spider-Man became a legend in Queens. He was a hero, and everyone loved him. Some news channels and papers attacked him if he ever made a mistake. That's what the limelight was like, but for the most part, it was all right. 

Peter did a couple warm-up stretches, a couple of lunges, high knees, and cracked his fingers. He was ready. Peter leaped off the building, soaring through the air. He let out a laugh. There was nothing more surreal than just jumping. Peter flipped, and he was off. He swung through the streets, picking up speed, and sometimes just flinging himself through the air. Peter must have swung around for hours.

"There is a robbery on 8009 Myrtle Avenue, directions are pulled up." Peter followed Karen's directions to a little bodega. He could see two masked men inside, both were armed with guns. The cash register was an elderly old man that looked close to cardiac arrest; he shoveling cash into a sack while a gun was pointed to directly at him. The other criminal was watching hostages near the back of the store. First order of business was to get the guns, then remove the hostages, and then buy a snack after it was finished. 

Spider-Man casually walked through the door and snuck up behind the guy at the counter. His buddy was too absorbed in threatening lives that he didn't notice him. The old man looked at him but thankfully didn't give up his position. 

"Hey, buddy can you hurry up?" The man spun around, it didn't take long for Spider-Man to disarm him. The criminal's eyes were so wide it was comical. He webbed him up and got to work with the other one. He looked at the hostages, but the man was gone. In his peripheral vision, he saw the masked man bolt down the street. Spider-Man grabbed the sack of money and handed it to the old man. "I believe this belongs to you." He shouted over his shoulder as he sped after the criminal, "make sure to call 911!" 

Spider-Man caught up with the second assailant. "You really can't run very fast, can you?" The masked man growled at him and attempted to shot him. Spider-Man kicked out his legs and immediately webbed him up. He heaved him over his shoulder and headed back to the bodega. Most of the people were still inside; Spider-Man dropped the man off right in front of the door. He made eye contact with the old man, gave him a thumbs up, and swung off. 

"Good job, Peter." 

"Thanks, Karen!" He only had thirty minutes until it was his curfew. Peter had done literally nothing today. There weren't even any old ladies to help cross the street. At least he saved a store from being robbed. Off to homefront, Peter supposed. 

"Peter, there is a fight turning hostile at Spring Creek Park. Do you want to help?" He rolled his eyes at Karen's question; she was worried he would break his curfew. 

"Of course; take it away, Penny." Karen pulled up the directions, but corrected him that her name was "Karen, not Penny." 

"It was a joke, Karen. It's from a cartoon." It was always weird to explain jokes to Karen. She was silent, but that was okay. Peter needed to concentrate on getting there. 

He followed the path Karen, highlighted until he came across a group of men. It didn't look like it was a full blown fight, but it was apparent they were in an argument. It was a group of about ten guys; no one stood out or looked necessarily dangerous. "There's no trouble here, Karen." He whisper-yelled to her. When she didn't answer him, he just rolled his eyes at her antics and went to swing off to home. 

"What the fuck do you mean you're not going to make it?" Peter stilled and spied around a pillar. "I paid you! You fat, greasy slimeball. You're never going to want to cross me again. Get him." Gunshots erupted; Peter watched as one man sprouted eight mechanical arms and attacked. It was beyond frightening to watch. He went from one guy to the next. Blood was everywhere. Everyone was screaming. Running. He caught them like a venus fly trap. The man tricked these people, into thinking he was weak. Then, he sprung into an attack. He was smart; he was a super-genius. 

Peter couldn't do this. 

"Karen, get me out of here," he hid behind the pillar. Karen didn't answer him. "I can't do this, please." She still didn't respond. All he heard were the screams of agony as the man ripped the people to shreds. God, he was freaking out. Peter snuck to his knees and buried his head between them as he gasped for air. Peter couldn't do this. Peter couldn't do this. Peter was only a kid. Peter stopped. Wasn't that precisely what he was trying to prove everyone he wasn't. Peter got angry when people called him a kid. Yet here he was shielding himself behind a pillar, while civilians were being murdered. It was just like Uncle Ben all over again. Peter ground his teeth, that was never going to happen again. If He could help he was going to. 

He was going to prove to everyone that he wasn't a kid. He poked his head around the corner two men were down and not moving. Peter started to shake. It was all too much, he was just a little kid...Exactly. Peter was a little kid, but Spider-Man wasn't. He was a hero; he saved people. Peter understood automatically. Peter couldn't do this, but Spider-Man could. Spider-Man shakily stood up. He had to do something; he was a hero. He took one deep breath and he swang into action. "Mind if one more joins your party?" Spider-Man kept his voice calm and even. This was his job, to save people. To make sure, they go back to their families. He wasn't going to let any child lose their father today. 

The man looked up and sneered. Spider-Man wasted no time, he slung web after web. The man proved himself to be tough, but Spider-Man was tougher. The man, who he was now going to call "Armazoid," landed a couple of hits, but they didn't hurt. He jumped back up time after time and landed some of his own. 

The remaining men fled the scene. Spider-Man heard the squealing of tires as they rolled out. He shot a web at the man and threw him off his balance. Armazoid hit the ground. He cocooned Armazoid in webs. Once he wasn't struggling anymore, Spider-Man stopped. He peered over at the men he chose not to save. Their lifeless faces stared back at him. Their mouths were wide open in a silent scream. This was his fault. Peter ripped his mask off and puked into a nearby trash can. He emptied the entirety of his stomach until he was just dry heaving. In the back of his mind, he heard a rip. Peter paid it no mind. 'Your fault. Your fault. Your --'

A tentacle seized him from the ground and threw him, hard. Peter crashed through a pillar. Pieces of debris fell around him. A large chunk of concrete landed on his legs. Peter vaguely heard himself screaming. The world around him was spinning. Peter saw a figure walk towards him, it's silhouette had eight arms. It was Armazoid. He had escaped Peter's lousy webbing. Peter watched through his blurry vision as he appeared in front of him. Armazoid crouched right in front of him. This was it, Peter Parker was over. He tried to lift his limbs, but they were as heavy as lead. There was nothing to do except watch his demise. He felt like he was floating, his eyes briefly closed. He blinked them open if he fell asleep he was dead. Logically, he was dead either way. 

Armazoid observed as the owlish eyes of the boy flickered shut. Spider-Man was young. Very young. He reached out one of his tentacles and caressed the face of the boy he just defeated. The kid shrank away from him. Merciful was not a word to describe him, but for some reason, he didn't finish Spider-man off. "Fight your own battles, kid." His arms lifted him up and carried him away. 

Peter stared in horror as he disappeared into the night. Why did he think he could defeat that thing? Peter couldn't beat that thing in his dreams. Look what it cost him: he saw Peter's face. He knew what he looked like. He -- Peter's head rolled to the side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was my first time writing a fight, I hope it wasn't terrible!
> 
> Armazoid was so cheesy, but I did finish writing pretty late and I was just done. It was the first thing that popped into my head sorry lol


	5. You'll never be nothing, Duck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter wakes up after his incident with Armazoid (Again sorry)

"What the fu-" Peter head was pulsating in an angry rhythm. Everything hurt. His ribs. His arms. His legs. But, most of all his heart hurt. It was like he had all the wind knocked out of him. In one big gulp, he realized; Peter couldn't do this. He thought he was a superhero, but it was apparent to see. He was anything but that. Peter was just a teenager, who had been bitten by a spider. Peter could save lives, but he couldn't save every single life. Peter tried! But, tonight showed him, that he really was nothing. Peter didn't matter in the whole scheme of things. Spider-Man wasn't worth anything either. 

It was kind of pathetic, Peter realized. He was fighting to prove himself, but every time he tried. Peter was beaten. Down and down. Every single time. Sure, he defeated the Vulture. Big whoop. That was one man that had a bird suit. The world was crawling with scumbags. Spider-man was fighting a futile war. Inevitably, he would be killed. There was no point. No point to him. No point to Spider-Man. Peter and Spider-Man were both useless. He was a menace just like the News said. He hurt people. He killed people. People hated him.

No one would have given two shits if he had died tonight. May and Ned would care. They would get over it. He was just a placeholder. A fill-in. May would find her real family. She wouldn't be weighed down in over-due bills or worry over Peter's safety. May would be free from his baggage. She would be safe from the dangers of having Spider-Man as a nephew. May could find another Uncle Ben and be happy. His only wish when he died was for May to be happy and content with her life. 

Ned would find a better friend. One that didn't ditch him in a moments notice. A friend that was actually there. He needed someone to rely on, and Peter was unreliable. They could get over him. Eventually. 

'Mr. Stark would care,' Peter thought. No, he wouldn't. Mr. Stark had made that tremendously apparent the last couple of weeks. Mr. Stark had Harley. He never cared for him. The suit was a formal courtesy, a business deal. It would be bad publicity if he died for Mr. Stark. Why Peter had even thought he wormed his way into Mr. Stark's heart, he didn't know. Peter was a nat. Buzzing around Mr. Stark's head, swarming him with his incessant chatter. Mr. Stark took pity on Peter and never squashed him, he just kept Peter around. He had already tried to weave his way into his family. He would never be family with Mr. Stark. Peter was a street rat. Born and raised in Queens. 

"No," Peter mumbled. He always had this voice. Telling him that he would never be anything. Sometimes Peter listened to it, he tuned into its frequency. Peter never questioned it. Took its words as law. Only when he was genuinely vulnerable did he even think to agree. Like right now. Peter wasn't thinking clearly; his mind muddled with death and defeat. He was projecting his failure as Spider-Man into his life as Peter. This wasn't Peter Parker's baggage it was Spider-Man's, his alter-ego's. Spider-Man could learn from his mistakes. Peter would make sure he would.

Peter thought he was crazy for separating the two. It just felt right. They were both characters with two independent lives. Sometimes they crossed paths, but it wasn't often. Each had two different personalities. Spider-Man was boisterous, confident, courageous with just a hint of recklessness. A natural born leader, who laughed in the face of danger. Peter was the exact opposite. Peter was quiet, had major self-esteem issues, and there was nothing courageous about him. He was a follower, he yearned to fit in. In the words of High School Musical, he wanted to "stick to the status quo." Two very different people that couldn't function in the other person's shoes. Even if they were technically the same person. Peter really was going crazy. 

Peter sat up, rubble was thrown all around him from the semi-demolished pillar. It was luck that the whole pillar hadn't fallen onto him while he was out. Peter would have been crushed. His ears had finally stopped ringing. All his sense came rushing back to him, he wasn't all pain now. There was a numbness. Numbness in his legs? He looked down to his legs. A large piece was concrete had trampled his legs. His legs weren't a mangled mess, all his bones were secured. No heinous cuts. Just serious bruising. Peter gently rolled the debris off him. Even after being knocked out, it didn't even strain his muscles. It was like nudging a pillow off him. 

The hardest part of this whole ordeal was standing up. Peter felt like a newborn deer, he wobbled onto his weak legs, less graceful than intended. His knees knocked together under the pressure of his body weight. Peter was determined not to fall onto the sharp debris, he didn't plan on turning himself into a human kabob. The concrete had cut all blood flow off to his legs. He couldn't feel a single thing upper thigh down. Peter gripped onto the side of the still standing pillar and leaned on it for support. He wasn't going to get anywhere with his legs right now. 

Now that Peter was standing up, he could finally see the destruction he created. The area of the park was torn apart. Not to mention two men were laying on the ground lifeless. In the morning, their families would be informed of their deaths. The world would be informed it was Spider-Man's doing. Which it was. He hid quivering while he could have been saving them. Instead, he only thought of himself. That would never happen again. When Spider-Man made his re-appearance, no one else would die. If someone did die, it would be him.

The man on the right looked relatively old. He had a kind face. Peter imagined he had the brightest smile. Peter stumbled over to him, and tenderly closed the man's eyes. He was caught in the middle of chaos, and wherever chaos went, death traveled behind her. This man had just unfortunately been present. Yes, he was criminal, but he didn't deserve this. No one deserved death. 

"Hel-" Peter quickly shot up. His legs buckled underneath him. Peter searched his surrounds for the voice. His eyes settled on the second man he had presumed dead. The man's hand was reaching out to Peter. Peter quickly crawled over to him. His eyes were open, and they appeared responsive as well. Peter checked his pulse. It was steady, but it was still too faint for Peter's liking.

"Hey, can you understand me?" Peter observed his body, trying to find his wound. There was a huge blood spot on his stomach. It was still bleeding, Peter took over the man's jacket as careful as he could and applied pressure to the wound. The man nodded to Peter and grunted. "I'm sorry, but I have to stop the bleeding." He just nodded and laid his head down. Peter needed to call 911. His mask was missing, which meant Karen couldn't help. He was forced to look in the man's pockets for his phone. Peter found it in the jeans pocket, thankfully, uncracked and had some charge left. He quickly dialed 911 with one hand and covered the laceration with his other. 

Ring. Ring. RIng. Peter was fidgeting with anxiety. He had been gifted with a second chance he wasn't going to let this man die. "911, what's your emergency?" Peter almost cheered in relief.

"Someone has been badly injured, I don't know how bad it is." Peter kept his voice calm and changed it slightly. Made it a little deeper, less high pitched.

"Do they have a pulse?" 

"Yes, but it's weak."

"We'll dispatch an ambulance out, they'll be there in five minutes. Keep them awake." 

"Okay, okay. Please hurry up." Peter could do this. 

"Don't-" The line went dead. Peter looked down at the phone. Dead. At least someone was coming. All he had to do was keep him awake. 

"What's your name?" If Peter asked questions, the man would have to be alert to answer them. 

"Leon," he answered, it came out as a low grunt. Leon looked up at him. His eyes were glassy. 

"What were you doing out here, Leon?" 

"He promised to make us some weapons, the bastard lied. This was supposed to be an easy job," he let out a wet laugh. "Now I'm dying." He pitifully smiled, his teeth were coated with blood. 

"No, you're not! The ambulance will be here soon!" Leon was not going to die on him. 

"You're Spider-Man?" Leon said in disbelief, changing the subject adequately. He laughed again, but it quickly transformed into coughing. Peter helped him set up and patted him on the back. His chest wasn't bleeding as severe as before. Blood was still seeping out of the gaping hole though.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Leon looked at him. Really looked at him. Peter felt dirty, and it wasn't from all the dried blood. 

"You're a kid, I never would have thought a kid was trapezing around saving everyone's ass's." Peter didn't even feel offended. Leon wasn't insulting him. If anything he was in awe that Peter would lay his life down, when Peter had barely lived his. 

"Well, now you know. Please don't tell anyone. You know, that a kid's Spider-Man. Secret identities and all." Leon smiled at him. It was filled with admiration. 

"I'll make you a deal, kid if I survive," "You will," Peter weakly supplied. "You better stop by my hospital room and come talk to me. I want to be able to fully thank the man who saved me." Peter's heart swelled at his words. 

"I promise," Peter automatically responded. Leon nodded his head. 

"What's your name, kid?" Leon asked. 'The hell with secret identities,' Peter thought. He could trust this man.

"Peter."

"It's a good thing I'm not a bad guy," Peter thought it was best to not tell him he kinda was. Sirens sounded in the background. The ambulance. Help. Peter released the tension in his body, Leon would survive.

"That's your sign to leave, kid." Peter gently sat Leon down. Leon weakly propped himself up and watched with kind eyes as Peter searched for his mask. "It's over there, Peter." Peter blushed and followed Leon's finger. Resting beside a trash can, laid his mask. He picked it up and turned back to Leon. Leon smiled at him. "You better keep your promise." 

"Don't worry, I will. I'll even bring you some flowers." Leon chuckled. Peter stood there staring at him. He didn't want to leave him. Peter heard the medics coming, they would be here soon. He just didn't feel comfortable leaving him. 

"Go. Peter, I'll be fine." Peter nodded and pulled his mask over his head. An ambulance appeared down the road, it sped right to Leon. He swung away. Leon shouted thank you at him from behind him. 

Peter slung web after web until he was out of the park. He gracefully landed on a building's roof and took a breather. Peter sat down on the ledge. Leon made him feel better, but he still hadn't forgotten about the other man he let die. 

"Peter," Karen. Peter had almost forgotten about her. Seeing as she didnt respond during his fight. "You are injured." She stated it like the fact it was. 

"I'll be fine. Where were you?" He felt betrayed that she left him all alone. Peter really needed her and even if she was just an AI. Karen let him down. 

"Something blocked me. I have not been able to figure out what it was." That made sense, Peter let go of his resentment. He knew Karen wouldn't have left him. She was programmed to help him, after all. 

"That makes sense," he trailed off. Peter just wanted to go home. 

"Would you like me to call Mr. Stark?" Peter just shook his head and stood. Mr. Stark couldn't help him. This was up to him to fix. Like he said before, it was Spider-Man's baggage. 

"No. What time is it Karen?" 

"10:58," Peter had been unconscious for three hours. Somehow Leon hadn't died the entire time he was out. It was awe-inspiring. "Karen, set up directions home." She didn't respond, but the directions popped up nonetheless. 

By the time he got the apartment, Peter could barely function. He crawled into his room and jumped onto his bed. While he was laying down, he slid the suit off. Peter threw the multimillion-dollar suit into a heap of dirty clothes beside his bed. His legs were severely bruised and swollen, but nothing appeared to need immediate wrapping or care. Peter scrambled under the covers and burrowed into the warmth. 

Peter couldn't detect May's presence in the apartment, so he assumed she was still working. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan on writing Leon in, but I actually like the addition of his character. So imma keep him


	6. The One Where Peter's Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter wakes up after his fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a little short, whoops

To say Peter was sore the next morning was an understatement. His body was on fire. From head to toe, it felt like he was burning. He realized it was even worse when he moved. Every slight twitch made the pain go from a five to easily an eight. Peter should have just iced his whole body when he got home last night. 

Peter looked over his gunk covered body. There was dried blood, dirt, and some dust on him. He looked and felt disgusting. Usually, a cold shower in the morning sounded like hell, but a cold shower didn't seem bad at the moment. 

As gently as he could, Peter eased his legs over his bed. His legs, if you could even call them his legs, were just swollen masses. It looked like Bob Ross used his legs as a canvas, but instead of Bob Ross painting, it was his squirrels, and they created this. How his healing factor hadn't eradicated the swelling, Peter didn't know. This was what his healing was for. Peter's knees could barely bend. That wasn't the only stiff joint, all of them were stiff. They creaked like the floorboards of an old house when he put pressure on them. Peter felt like in one night he aged twenty years. Is this what Mr. Stark feels like? Peter laughed at his own joke, again he was lame. 

Peter shuffled out of his room and into the bathroom. May was still not awake, so he didn't have to worry about her finding him. The apartment was just as creaky as he was. Peter tried to lightly limp to the bathroom; he didn't want to wake May up. But, every step caused a massive lurch in the floorboards. 

He flicked on the light switch and looked at himself in the mirror. Peter looked rough. Somehow he had a black eye and bruises in patches on his neck. Thankfully his black eye wasn't too bad, he could use some of May's concealer and hide it. The bruises resembled hickies if you just glanced at them, so concealer could help them too. His torso was pretty gnarly also, only second to his legs. However, both of those would be covered up with his clothes. 

Peter jumped in the cold shower, and for once it felt heavenly. The fiery pain turned into a dull ache. Peter relished the frigid water. Everything felt amazing. After what felt like a minute, he turned the shower off. Peter just stood in the dirty water surrounding his feet. All the grime and blood mixing below. It was left a gross residue on his feet. Peter stepped out of the shower and dried off. 

He wiped the fog off the bathroom mirror and looked at himself. It was crazy to think just last night he had almost died. Now he was getting ready for school like it never happened. Peter made sure the drain didn't get clogged and got dressed. He snuck into the bathroom and covered up his wounds. Peter blended out the makeup, and they disappeared. Just like it never happened. He wanted to forget his defeat, but he couldn't forget Arma- No, Peter was going to come up with a better name than that. But, what could he call him? 

The man had eight arms, kind of like an octopus, but was an octopus good naming material? No, Peter decided, an octopus-themed supervillain would be dumb. Technically, he had already faced the Vulture, another animal-themed villain, and that wasn't the best name either. What would be a good villain name? There weren't a lot of good villain names. Peter needed something to call this guy so he wouldn't be scared when he thought of him. He needed to lighten the mood. 

What were the man's main points? He killed people, but that wasn't really funny. He was probably smart if he designed the tentacles, but making fun of his intelligence wasn't the way to go. Back to square one: octopus. What did Peter think of when he thought of an octopus? Squidward! Of course, he had squid in his name, but Squidward was an octopus. Peter had read enough theories and done enough research to know Squidward doesn't look like a squid, and he had tentacles. The man had tentacles and a big head, how could Peter not call him Squidward! And it wasn't a name that filled his heart with terror, it was a cartoon character's name. So it all buffs out. People would think he was just talking about a Spongebob episode too, it was the perfect cover. 

Peter's pain was started to flare up again. In a matter of minutes, he would be in agonizing pain. He's had enough of that of a whole lifetime. Peter grabbed some ibuprofen from the kitchen cabinets. Ever since he was bitten, two ibuprofens were never enough. Peter would just burn through it, but seven should do the trick. It was a risky game, but he's engaged in risk behaviors before. 

His phone was fully charged for once. The time read six thirty, he had twenty minutes left before he had to leave for school. Peter looked at his homework lying on the dinner table and sighed. He had to alteast attempt his homework. Peter plopped down in a chair and started on his school work. 

"Peter?" He snapped his head over to see May in the doorway. Peter checked the clock on his phone, eight fifteen. He should have left an hour ago. Peter was late. Not even a little late, he was very late. The next train would be at the stop in five minutes. Peter could make it. Only if he ran. 

"I lost track of time! I gotta go," Peter shoved his homework into his bag and grabbed his phone. He put his shoes on not bothering to tie the laces. "See you tonight, May!" Peter bolted out the door, down the stairs, through the lobby, all the way to the subway station. As he swiped his card, the train departed. Peter watched with unbelieving eyes as the train hurtled down the tracks. 

He glanced down at his phone, the next train wouldn't be here for ten minutes. Peter glumly walked over to a bench and waited. The rest of his homework could be done at lunch. 

His phone vibrated; it was Ned. One of Ned's many texts asking where he was. If he was hurt. How Spider-Man did last night. Peter was grateful for a fantastic friend. MJ even sent him a message. He felt a little guilty for worrying them; Peter just brushed it off. He sent a message to their group chat apologizing and making an excuse for why he was late. 

There was one notification that was out of place. It was a missed call from Mr. Stark and a text message. He called at four, and the text was a minute after that. "Hey, kid, your vitals for your suit were out of whack yesterday. Call me back." It was very simple. Casual. Not formal at all. Which coming from Mr. Stark was weird. Peter didn't want to call him though, he hated talking over the phone. It multiplied his awkwardness by one hundred. He decided to just send a text instead. 

"Got your message, I don't know what happened. My vitals shouldnt have been weird, I did nothing yesterday. The suit might need to be looked at." His sounded a lot more formal. Ever since he went through that clingy texting Happy phase 24/7, he's been more wary about sending text messages to adults. They're short and formal now, it makes him sound more mature anyways.

The train bustled into the station, and Peter shot up from his seat. At this rate, he would miss second period and some of third period. Peter tapped his foot while people unloaded, impatiently waiting. Like if they hurried up, he would get to school faster. Finally, he got onto the train. About no one was left in the train car; Peter gratefully took a seat. 

School really sucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about Squidward, I know Tony called Ebony Maw that in Infinity War. But, come on Dr. Oc, is basically an octopus, I had to call him Squidward.


	7. Not a Chapter, It's an Update!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry ahead of time

This isn't going to be a chapter, but I've decided I'm going to only update once a week. My last chapter was super sloppy. Anyways I've been feeling dizzy for a week, and I went in to do a lot of tests today; it's nothing serious, but I'm too tired to edit today. Also I'm stressed to the max. I want to make sure you guys enjoy what I'm writing and that the quality isn't shitty. So I hope this helps!


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